Legion Resurrected Chapter 5

5.

Michael

The drive to the Diner was to take three hours, according to his data compilation but he met some obstacles on the route. It was not any coyotes but one of the Seraph Warrior with a few converted of his own. Michael the Seraph Warrior. His name was Turion, one of the Seraph Warriors sent there.

“Hello, Turion.” Michael had stopped the patrol car on the road and then stepped out. Turion was one of the front-line warriors. He had fought with Gabriel then who was also a leader like Michael. He had offered to stay back to hunt the others and bring them back to Eden. Turion was a tall hard case with the frame that was probably modeled for Atlas. He was dressed in the leathers complete with boots and a huge motorcycle. He operated on the Mojave stretch along Highway 95 to the borders of Canada. He was the enforcer on that area. He had five of his men with him in the same attires. They have automatic guns.

“Oh, Michael. I did not know it was you they asked me to stop you.” Turion replied. “The command came to stop a renegade, Angel.”

“The command was right. I am a renegade. So, let me through.” Michael voiced out.

“I am sorry, Michael. I have my orders.” Turion defied the request. “The words have been adhered to. I will not stop you but they will do.”

The five men stepped forward and faced Michael. One moment they were men in leather attire and with a flash, they switch to the new look. It was the pale-faced expression with the bloodied eyes and their upper limbs extended out with the talons appearing on the finger ends.

“Demons…” Michael had fought these creatures before in the last war. They were not of mankind or the Seraph Warriors but the creation of the deviants that were brought from neither dimensions by some of the Fallen Ones. They fought as the frontline warriors with the Fallen Ones.

Michael knew that there was nothing he could say to these demons that will stop them. They are mindless creatures. He saw behind the line up of demons, Turion has mounted his motorcycle to leave, as expected the master will leave the minions to do the killing.

The Diner

Percy having mounted the ladders and stepped onto the platform. It was a narrow area to do maintenance on the mounted display board there that said Paradise Falls Diner. He had not been up there for some time but he did assist in the mounting of the board when they opened up the Diner. He recalled Bob calling him over when he was residing at the basement unit of the living five-story building, he had called home. He was the janitor with the responsibility there but there were insufficient resources to do his works, so he just remained the recluse he was at his unit. Bob came to him that afternoon and offered him a new life. One that was far from the madding crowd and allowed him to do what he does best; cooking. He had remembered the drive there and has stood out of the car looking at the rundown diner along the freeway that snaked across the Mojave Desert. He recalled then the structure was the only unit with the nearest inhabited structure miles away in either direction.

“Are you mad, Bob? This is the desert.” Percy cursed out. “Who will come here?”

“Us, and the others who will drive that route. We will their oasis. We will be their sanctuary. We will…” Bob stopped then. “Heck! Percy, it’s the only place I can afford and you will help me to run it. You could still cook the burgers over the grill. You could make the …”

It was then Percy turned to leave but Bob stopped him.

“Percy, I need you to do it with me. Okay, do it for my son. He’s coming next week.” That was what Percy did not expect.

“You bring your son here? You must be mad. This is no paradise for the young man. Go back to the city, please.”

“It will be his paradise. Here is where paradise fell from the sky and reborn with him.” Bob explained to Percy. “You could be there to help. You promised me when in the Marines that you will take care of my family. Please remember that.”

“That was when we thought will die then.” Percy and Bob were caught in the ambush then. He had promised that to Bob.

“When I will be soon. I am diagnosed with the big C. It will months or some years but I won’t see Jeep marry or my grandkids.” Bob replied. “It’s the lungs.”

Percy had sighed then. He had told Bob to stop smoking but the pal of his was not any man to be told. He agreed then and they spruced up the place, and even build the auto-repair. They were talking to the contractor on the name for the Diner.

“I got a board that the buyer did not want. He paid for it though.” The man told Bob and Percy. It read “Paradise Falls”. Bob was taken in then and convince the contractor to mount it. He told Percy then; “It’s what God will agree with us.”

“Hey, Pop. You are going to help me or do I kick the bag over?” Percy heard the younger man. He turned to look at the man struggling with the bag. Percy reached out and pulled the heavy bag towards him. The two of them then steadied their steps on the platform.

“Wow! Beautiful view.” Kyle looked to the vast desert that laid in front of them. Percy was used to that sight and was not surprised by the other’s view although the desert was overcast then. He recalled then that such sight was when the rain was to come, but that was not the rain he was expecting. He reached into the bag with his good hand and withdraw the rifle.

“M4.,,” Percy mumbled to himself when he held the rifle in his good hand. He balanced the rifle onto his metal hook and looked through the scope.

“Pop? That rifle recoil... Could you really handle it? Perhaps the handguns…” Kyle looked at the grill master with the metal hook.

“Son, I have used the rifles like these when you were in diapers. And the name is not Pop. Its Percy.” The man replied while he aimed the rifle at the road.

“And it isn’t a son to anyone. My name is Kyle. I was just asking.” Kyle grabbed himself a Browning to tuck into the waist belt and then the M16A4 he was familiar in the Marines.

“Kyle, can you pass me the other rifle, loaded, please? I have some difficulty loading them with my hook.” Kyle heard the request and leaned the spare M4 on the platform railing. He then paced the narrow platform and scouted the area he could see. It was a good observation point but hopeless in defense in a firefight.

“Percy, can I ask why are you here? Are we loco to be doing this stunt?”

“Son…. I mean Kyle. There is a reason for everything. It’s God’s will that we will be standing here.”

“I don’t accept that bullshit. We aren’t standing here to preach but to guard or shoot sooner or later.” Kyle questioned his action then. “One moment I was having a stopover, have a short rest, and then moved on but I ended witnessing some weird lady that could kill us but was shot before she could do that.”

“Your mama told you to talk that fast or am I just getting old listening to you.” Percy replied. “How would I know why you had a stopover and why the lady became that weird demon? All I know is that my Corporal told me to take guard duty and here I am.”

“Corporal? What the…. Were you in the Army?” Kyle asked.

“1^st Marines,” Percy replied. “So was Bob. He was Corporal on discharge.”

“2^nd Marines. Semper Fi.” Kyle replied. “How did you get yourself wounded?”

Percy knew that the young man was referring to his hook.

“Misjudgement and I lost it. Why are you out here?” Percy changed the subject.

“Driving to see my son in Chicago,” Kyle replied and it was then he saw the headlights. “We got a company.”

Kyle saw the headlights on both directions and looked like they were headed towards the Diner. He counted to twenty cars before he gave up. The cars had then arrived and parked in front of the Diner with the headlights turned on. The cars have parked before the gas pumps and the drivers stepped out. They looked like anyone you would have met in your life; office staff, plain-looking folks, and even a police officer from his Patrol car. They were all standing there by their car doors and looked blankly at the Diner. None made any move to step forward into the Diner.

Down below, Michael had seen the headlights too. He peeked through the barricade of planks and then spoke up.

“They are here.”

“Who are they?” Charlie asked.

“Your son’s executioners,” Michael replied and then armed himself.

“Like Hell they will.” Charlie cussed out. She then walked towards the duffle bag and took out the Browning. She checked the ammo clip and cocked the gun.

“You seem to know your guns,” Audrey asked from her seated position.

“Sister, I have used them guns since I was young. I even shot at some idiots who tried to rape me.” Charlie was familiar with the weapons and had shot at the drunk who thought she was an easy lay; the drunk was shot in the arm and ran off from her.

“I’m not your regular bitch.” Charlie grabbed the M 10 gun and slammed it in the ammo clip.